


Relapse

by J_E_McCormickGal, TiltingPlanet



Series: Say Nothing Of It [17]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I like Bahorel, M/M, Pre-Established Relationship, Relapse, Uhm, achoholism, again Bahorel is barely in there, but Imma tag him anyway, what am i doing i don't know how to tag shit properly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_E_McCormickGal/pseuds/J_E_McCormickGal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiltingPlanet/pseuds/TiltingPlanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire's not usually ashamed of his drinking. He realises it's likely not healthy, but it's helped him so far, so he's always reasoned it couldn't be that bad. But quitting is a lot harder than he realised. Today, he had finally succumb, and it had ended up here; alone in his dorm, the door locked, and barricaded just in case Bahorel were to come in and find him, and enough alcohol to drink himself into a coma. And that, he decided, was exactly what he would do.</p><p>Or at least, that was the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relapse

Grantaire was drinking.

Usually, this would be a normal occurrence. His friends were never surprised to find him surrounded by bottles of various alcohols of varying strengths. That was just Grantaire. He never really felt ashamed of drinking before.

But today, he did. Horrible, overwhelming shame, pounding on his skull with each mouthful. He had promised to stop. Enjolras had never liked his drinking problem, and so Grantaire had promised him he would stop.

He didn't think he'd ever anticipated it being this hard, mainly because he'd never really tried before. Today, he had finally succumb, a mixture of withdrawal and stress and a nightmare that refused to leave his thoughts be finally breaking his resolve and ending him here; alone in his dorm, the door locked, and barricaded just in case Bahorel were to come in and find him, and enough alcohol to drink himself into a coma. And that, he decided, was exactly what he would do. He hadn’t slept well in days.

Enjolras had had classes for most of the day, and at this point he was tired and really just wanted to drag Grantaire off to his room and use the other man as a pillow. It had become routine, really, that at least once a week Enjolras would get a good night's sleep, should Grantaire be there.

But according to everyone, they hadn't seen Grantaire all day. Not in class, not at the cafe, not anywhere on campus.

"I'm sure he's probably just sleeping or something, Enjolras. If he sleeps, and sleeps well, he sleeps like the dead." Bahorel reassured as he walked with the blond to his dorm. He tried the door, and blinked when he found it locked. "Huh. That's weird, I can't remember the last time the door was locked." He fished in his pocket for his key and unlocked the door and tried it again. No dice.

Enjolras pushed him aside to bang on the door. "Grantaire! You better be in there!"

Grantaire started, almost spilling his current drink (which may have been some sort of whisky but at this point he wasn't really sure) all over his front. 'Fuck.' was his first thought. Then, his brain suddenly seemed to catch up to the fact that it was Enjolras' voice that had called out, and he felt panic rising in his chest. If Enjolras was to find him here, now, like this... Grantaire's imagination ran wild with all the horrible scenarios, but they all had one similar theme; Enjolras getting angry and going right back to hating him. If there was one thing Grantaire didn't think he could deal with, it was that.

He was not quite so far gone that he couldn't stand, but that didn't mean he was balanced; he tripped over quite a few empty bottles as he sought to hide himself in a far corner of the dorm, the noise of them clattering to the floor together making him wince.

Enjolras and Bahorel shared a look when they heard the commotion from inside. Nodding at each other, they both threw their shoulders against the door in attempt to force it open. It opened a bit, but not much.

"He barricaded the door pretty well." Bahorel grunted, throwing his weight against the door again, forcing it a bit farther open.

It took several minutes of shoving, but the pair managed to get the door open far enough for Enjolras to slip in, leaving a panting Bahorel in the hall.

"Grantaire?"

Grantaire sunk lower in his corner, hiding his face against his knees, which he drew up to his chest to embrace tightly. This was it. The shame of his own weakness washed over him again, and the fear of what he thought imminent stabbed at him. He willed himself to not make a sound nor move even an inch, but his vision was blurring and his whole body shaking as he  
restrained himself. Finally, he let out what could have been a choked gasp or a muffled sob.

Enjolras looked around the room, noting the empty liquor bottles (some of which had rolled to Bahorel's side). He was frowning, trying to figure out where Grantaire was in the mess when he heard a muffled noise.

Gingerly picking his way through the scattered art supplies and discarded clothes, Enjolras managed to spot Grantaire huddled in the corner. He dropped gingerly to his knees in front of Grantaire.

"Oh, R." The blonde, hesitantly, pushed Grantaire's shoulders enough that he could get his hands on either side of the other man's face.

Grantaire flinched as he heard Enjolras' voice directly in front of him and felt his hands on his shoulders. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at what he was certain would be an expression of disappointment and hard blue eyes.

"I-I'm sorry." he managed to choke out. "I'm s-sorry."

"Shh, Grantaire. It's alright." Enjolras murmured, hugging Grantaire around the shoulders and running his fingers through the man's hair. "Breathe, R, breathe. Alright?" Yes, he was upset that he had been drinking, but right now calming the brunette was his focus.

For a moment Grantaire was confused, not expecting to be pulled into an embrace, but it was quickly overridden as he grasped for a hold on Enjolras, pushing his face into the blonde's shoulder and taking a deep, shuddering breath. It escaped him as another soft sob, and he again tried to muffle it.

"Shh, it's alright." Enjolras soothed, rubbing his hand up and down Grantaire's back in what he hoped was a soothing fashion. "What stressed you so much that you're drinking?" He asked, keeping his tone gentle. Yes, yes Enjolras was mad. But Grantaire didn't need to be yelled at right now

"I-I..." Grantaire faltered, still trying to bring his breathing under control. His mind searched through the chaos that had been his thoughts before he'd tried to drown them. It sounded silly to him now, all stupid insecurities and problems he should've gotten over as a kid, but if Enjolras didn't get a good answer then Grantaire's situation could only get worse. "I wasn't feeling s-so great... I h-hadn’t slept in four days, and when I did I... I had this n-nightmare and I couldn’t-... and this quitting b-business is harder than it s-sounds, I-I've been struggling w-with it recently a-and I just... I-I've never been a strong willed person before. That's what got me into this m-mess in the first place. I'm sorry." By the end, he had trailed off into a mumble and his face was hidden in Enjolras' shoulder again.

Enjolras took up his gentle shushing again, combing Grantaire's hair with his fingers. "Grantaire, look at me." He paused a moment before continuing to speak, whether the other man was looking or not. "I'll help you when you need it; you just need to tell me. I'm..." He sighed. "I don't like you drinking, but I understand it's hard. That's why I want you to come to me. At least so you're not drinking alone."

Grantaire dared to peer up at Enjolras. This wasn't what he had anticipated - Enjolras had never hesitated to yell at him before - but he was grateful of the other man's effort to keep calm. He knew his drinking bothered Enjolras, and he was sure that he was mad at him right now, yet here he was, talking gently to him instead of shouting. And even more, offering his help. Grantaire tightened his grip on Enjolras slightly, nodding his head gingerly.

"Thank you." He murmured tiredly.

Enjolras just nodded, rearranging himself so he was sitting in front of Grantaire, shoulder pressed to the wall, still hugging him. After an indeterminate amount of time he spoke, softly. "You alright? Need anything?" He asked quietly, resting his cheek on Grantaire's head.

Grantaire sighed, relaxing into Enjolras' hold, and spoke in a near-whisper slurred by both liquor and exhaustion. "'M tired. I want to sleep." Then, after a pause, even quieter. "Stay with me."

"If you want to sleep, bed." His tone was stern, but not angry. Enjolras was just sure that if he let Grantaire sleep like this, they'd both end up sorry and cranky come later.

Grantaire used the wall to slowly bring himself to his feet, and took a moment to compensate for his spinning head before trying to do anything other than stand there, swaying. Navigating his perpetual mess was always a fun task, but one he had done before and perfected. With a groan, he let himself drop onto his bed.

Sighing, Enjolras stood from his crouch to pick his way through the minefield that was Grantaire's half of the dorm room. Stepping gingerly over scattered tubes of paint and narrowly missing a canvas, he resisted the urge to collapse when he reached Grantaire's bed, and instead gingerly sat on the edge.

Grantaire looked up at him with tired, hazed eyes. He tentatively reached out towards one of Enjolras' hands, but didn't grasp it, instead letting his hand rest beside it, his fingertips millimetres away from brushing Enjolras' own. His expression seemed to fall slightly, but he simply squeezed his eyes closed and asked, in barely a whisper "Will you stay?"

Enjolras sat for a moment in silence, hesitantly threading his fingers through Grantaire's. "If you'll permit it." He murmured, stroking his thumb almost idly up and down the side of Grantaire's hand, everything Enjolras doing light in nature.

Grantaire made a half-hearted attempt at a chuckle, though all that he achieved was a huff through his nose, and an upwards twitch of his lips. His hand tightened on Enjolras'. "Of course." he murmured. He gave a small tug on Enjolras' hand, encouraging him to lay down with him.

Sighing, Enjolras kicked off his shoes, attempting to get them to fall somewhere he could later locate them, before letting himself lay down next to Grantaire. Dorm beds were small, so it was a tight squeeze, but well worth it if this was what Grantaire needed.

Once Enjolras was next to him, Grantaire wasted only a moment before pushing his face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his clean, comforting scent. He suddenly thought that he probably reeked of alcohol, something Enjolras would always complain about. He muttered another apology, thinking it would probably be lost to the fabric of Enjolras' shirt.

"I have no idea what you just said." Enjolras said pointedly, wrapping his free arm around Grantaire's back and drawing him close. "Now shush, you're going to wake up with an awful hangover." The blond said it softly, shifting so his chin rested on the other man's head.

Grantaire tried to say again that he was sorry, and make some comment about how he knew he was going to have an awful hangover, but at this point real coherency was beyond him. Enjolras was warm, and his presence comforting, and Grantaire eventually let himself fall into a slightly uneasy sleep, curled close to his side.

Enjolras sighed, shifting slightly to make himself comfortable and, after a moment, fished his phone from his pocket. 'R had a relapse; don't let anyone get too close to his and Bahorel's dorm. -E' He sent the text to Combeferre before letting the phone fall to the floor, satisfied everything was taken care of for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Still hoping I'm getting this whole alcoholism thing down right.  
> Enjolras written by TiltingPlanet, Grantaire written by me.


End file.
